


Omne Trium Perfectum-Everything That Comes In Threes Is Perfect

by fractalserpentine, HopeofDawn



Series: A Stitch In Time [4]
Category: Legacy of Kain
Genre: Bloodplay, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, Vampire Sex, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-12
Updated: 2011-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalserpentine/pseuds/fractalserpentine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeofDawn/pseuds/HopeofDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kain and Raziel discuss strategy under the eyes of Raziel's newest Ancient vassal--then decide to 'discuss' something else entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Omne Trium Perfectum-Everything That Comes In Threes Is Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of explanation: this was originally written for a long-running crossover RPG called Multiverse Haven (now sadly defunct). The basic premise of the game was that characters had been pulled from multiple worlds and marked as Chosen, in order to eventually restore a dying multiverse. The main storyline takes place in Nosgoth, however there may be occasional references to characters, magic systems and some borrowed vampire terminology from other canon sources.

Raziel’s lodgings were not difficult to locate.

For one thing, the Ancients had adorned his balcony with an enormous, woven banner depicting the elder’s clan symbol -- the stark red and white stood out clearly among the pillar Guardians’ smaller banners. Kain landed upon the beautifully carved and tiled balcony in a disorderly flock. Upon reforming, he took a moment to gaze out over the city, and the part of the temple he could see. The view, he had to admit, was unutterably splendid.

However, all the chambers atop the temple seemed singularly indefensible against flying creatures -- the temple was riddled with wide entrances. And indeed, under the freshly applied murals and reconstructed stone and wood-work, there was evidence of past damage from the Hylden war. There was one great section where such heat had been applied that the stone had partially melted; and over there were a dozen quickly patched gouges where something had struck the temple.

Kain turned and prowled inside, senses alert for Raziel’s presence. These chambers were clearly of a different sort than Kain had been issued. The big central room was large enough to fight in, and polished pearl or silver inlay glistened everywhere. Even the floor was fine-textured marble, interspersed in places with polished slabs of semiprecious gemstone. Long after the Ancients’ fall, this complex would be inhabited by other races, other species, before finally collapsing into the ruins the two vampires had explored in Kain’s own era.

Raziel was not yet arrived. Kain found where the elder’s usual attire had been arranged upon an armor stand, and began producing and laying out the selection of armors and weapons he had obtained.

Raziel himself took some time to arrive. The Guardians and others that Janos had summoned had demanded a great deal of his attention, especially now that Janos' offer of sanctuary for the Razielim had become common knowledge. Raziel himself had wearied of the endless discussions and ceremonies long before, but had put a leash on his temper, summoning patience as he answered question after question by curious Ancients wanting to know more about his bloodline and the Hylden. Finally, as the moon rose, he found sufficient reason to excuse himself, claiming fatigue ... not strictly true, at least in the physical sense, but far better to lie than subject the Ancients to his waning patience.

Followed by Gana, the Ancient guardswoman and now his erstwhile shadow, Raziel took to the air. The cool night breeze was a balm to his senses, and for a while he was tempted to luxuriate in a long flight over the nearby forests, to explore this young, green world. But his rendezvous with Kain was far more important, and so he turned, heading for the chambers he had been given, high in the temple tower. He arrived without fanfare, immediately noticing Kain's scent upon the balcony, and entered. "Your search has been fruitful, I see," he remarked, surveying the collection arrayed before his sire.

Raziel had been making no effort to conceal the aura of power that presaged his presence, and Kain was aware of his approach and waiting even before the elder touched down. “So it has,” Kain agreed, looking up from the mural he had been examining. The Ancients were smaller and more slender than either he or Raziel -- and they were winged, of course. All the armor of their make had required a few modifications to fit Kain, and would no doubt require more to fit Raziel’s clan. He picked up an ornate aventail, its steel gleaming softly with its own enchantment. “Come here, and disrobe. Tell me -- are all your brethren built roughly akin to you? Are they winged? And do they have preferred styles of fighting?”

Raising an eyebrow at the barrage of questions, Raziel nonetheless did as he was bid. He was more familiar with Ancient robes by this time, and only some of the more delicate fastenings gave him trouble as he unbelted the robe and pulled it off. Unselfconscious of his nudity, he approached, taking the mail of the aventail and inspecting it himself. "They vary in size and stature, of course, but yes, most of my clan is the same as I. Fighting--there are pikeman, and swordsmen mostly--a few archers, though magic is far more effective than arrows, most times." Vampiric strength proved to be a far greater weapon in closer quarters, and archery nullified that advantage. Taloned hands were not well equipped to pull bowstrings, either, which meant archery was mostly used by fledglings until they had evolved into more of their natural weaponry.

As to the last question .... He hesitated, then said, "And ... no. None of them are winged."

Kain nodded, and selected an engraved breastplate, which was among the heaviest of the armor he’d been able to find amongst the Ancients’ works. “Hn. Pikemen in formation? Then they would wear heavy...” he lifted it up, and paused. It had been a little while since he had seen Raziel nude, and the sight was, quite simply, breathtaking as always. The elder’s blood-red robe lay puddled about his taloned feet, and his skin seemed to glow a pure, cool white in the light of enchanted candles, traced over with a ghostly chasing of veins far finer than those in the marble underfoot. A moment to admire, and Kain gestured for Raziel to spread his arms, that he might try buckling the breastplate on. “Many of these are enchanted to offer a degree of protection against Hylden magics,” Kain said, having lost his previous train of thought.

Obediently lifting his arms out of the way and unfurling his wings, Raziel watched Kain puzzle out the unusual strapping required to go around wings. It had obviously been designed for an Ancient, but even so required a certain amount of adjustment. The Ancients' wings were far more birdlike and differently jointed than Raziel's own, which presented some minor difficulties in close-fitting armor. "Are the enchantments specific to any type of attack, or simply generalized against all glyph-magicks?" he asked.

Kain frowned, withdrawing a segment of chalk to mark upon the armor itself. “Generalized, though I believe it safe to assume that the Hylden will have developed now tricks over the span of their captivity.” Most of the strapping could be removed for wingless creatures, but the sides of the breastplate itself would have to be cut to accommodate a more heavily muscled fighter, such as Raziel. And, recalling Raziel’s astonishing flexibility, Kain little liked the jointing of this style of armor. “Can you perform a twisting motion unhindered?” he asked.

Raziel twisted experimentally, miming a downward cut with a sword, and grunted in annoyance as the edge of the breastplate cut hard into his diaphragm. He wasn't sure he liked the way the strapping pressed upon the bony join of his wings low on his back either, though at least it didn't hinder their movement. "This would definitely need some adjustment by an armorer," he said, peering down beneath his arm to the buckles and straps along one side. "At this point, however, any protection from glyph magic could only benefit our forces."

Kain set to stripping the heavy piece of armor off Raziel. “Your archers may be of great use; the Ancients seem to favor enchanted arrows of several sorts,” he said, nodding to where several quivers and bows were leaned against the wall. “The swordsmen, however -- are they trained as line troops, or skirmishers, in general?” He assisted Raziel with donning an arming coat, the back of which was cut for wings, and then a brigandine over the top of that. Both fit better than the plate, though the elder’s heavy flight muscles broadened his chest, and made the armor a slightly tight fit, despite the modifications already made to it.

The brigandine suit was nearly the least ornate of the suits Kain had collected, with dark metal plates laid over soft leather, almost like scalemail. Once the armor was entirely buckled, however, that changed. The plates gradually began to alter their color, becoming lighter and mottled with a blueish tinge, matching the lighting in the room.

"They have been line troops of late--for the last few centuries, we had less need for skirmishers." Not when there were no armies left to oppose Kain's rule. "They can serve as either, however--many of the elders served as skirmishers in the early days, when we could not afford to stand and face an army on the battlefield." Raziel ducked his head as Kain settled the heavy brigandine over his shoulders, and stretched a little, enjoying the far more comfortable feel of the leather that padded his skin from the interlocking plates. "How curious," he observed, running a taloned hand over the varicolored armor. "Intended as camoflauge, I presume?"

“So it would seem,” Kain agreed, a little surprised. He’d not been told of this particular enchantment, though it seemed odd -- he’d seen the Ancients even employ invisibility spells. This seemed a far more minor magic, but... Kain tilted his head, considering, then took a step to the side, and moved back. Ah. “It appears to break up your form, to make you appear as if you were moving when, and where, you are not.” The shift of shades and tones across the armor was subtle, but Kain could see how it could become highly effective, particularly considering how swiftly Raziel could turn and lunge in battle.

"Ahh--I have never seen magic used thus, but it seems an eminently useful idea," Raziel said approvingly, twisting around to view himself as best he might. The armor was still not perfectly fitted, of course, given that it had not been made for him, and pinched slightly in places. Overall, however, it was amazingly light--though he could not tell if the armor's strength would prove up to the test of battle. He tapped a talon experimentally against the interlocking plates over his stomach, pleased when the tough chitin failed to penetrate. "What was the cost in procuring such armor?" As welcoming as the Ancients were, the armorers and weaponsmiths of this era would still require payment for their services--especially if they were to try and equip more of the Razielim with such arms.

“For these samples, there was none,” Kain said, gesturing Raziel’s guard nearer. He instructed her to hold a pair of silken breeches, for the elder to step into. Kain had been assured they made good armor, but they were so gossamer-light, it seemed as if they might snag and rip open upon Raziel’s hooves. “Indeed, the Ancients seem eager to send to you any manner of gifts or services, though most possess skills not directly applicable to the present situation.” Kain snorted softly. “If you ever should have need of religious symbols, inks, fabrics, or the like, do let me know. In any case, cost will be less an issue than availability -- the Ancients’ tools of war are long in the making. How numerous is your clan?”

Raziel stilled for a moment, disguising a stab of uncertainty at the question. Then, as the guardswoman obediently set her spear aside and took up the breeches, he stepped into them gingerly, careful of his sharp-edged feet. "They--numbered in the thousands, last I knew. But I do not know yet how many might have already fallen to the blades and fangs of their brethren," he said evenly, controlling his voice carefully.

“Hn,” Kain murmured, passing his palm down Raziel’s hip. The silk was very slick underhand, and when he raked his claws down the same place, the fabric would not split. It did, however, convey pressure -- it would be next to useless against bashing weapons. “Can we arrive before their Lord’s fall, even by a little, without altering your recollection of history, or encountering your former self by mistake?” he asked.

Raziel was tempted by the prospect, but--the hazards were far too great. He shook his head. "No. They would not question my authority if I did, but--no. We would risk exposure." Not the least by an elder Kain himself, who was a great deal more omniscient than his younger self. There was also the fact that Raziel had been insensible, caught in the Change for over a year before his emergence--and his wings. If he showed himself thus to his clan, before his future-self had emerged on his own--there would be no way to keep such a thing silent.

Kain nodded. “Then we should see how shortly after the fall of your clanlord we can arrive. I suggest attempting to set the chambers to that very date, unless you have already tried to do so?” He gestured Gana, the guardswoman, to begin removing Raziel’s breeches, as he himself started on the brigandine. The straps came away, and Kain selected a full suit of golden chainmail to test upon Raziel’s body. “Your clan consists of both fledglings and elders? Do all elders wear such armor -- a few heavy pieces to catch blows, but trusting to your own skin for the bulk of protection?”

Grateful that the topic had moved somewhat away from the day of his own demise, Raziel nodded. He hissed a little in surprise and pleasure as Gana's talons inadvertantly stroked down his thighs as the breeches were removed, glancing backward--but otherwise concentrated on unbuckling straps and aiding Kain in lifting off the bulky brigandine. "There are more elders than fledglings, now--there was less of a need to create new vampires once the Clans were established. But yes--most are armored in a similar manner, with the fledglings wearing more, the elders less. We found that bulky armor only hampered our warriors after a point--speed and strength became much more essential to winning battles." Once a vampire had evolved enough, most human soldiers were simply incapable of dealing anything but trivial wounds upon their toughened hides. A trivial wound, of course, being something entirely different to a vampire than a human ...

“I shall focus, then, upon the lighter armors -- perhaps collecting some heavier bracers and pauldrons in addition.” Kain handed the lower half of the padding and chainmail to Gana, to help Raziel into. He paused a moment before assisting with the upper half -- running the pad of his thumb lazily over one of Raziel’s nipples first. The elder’s gasp had not gone unnoticed. “Which is just as well, for extradimensional space does have some limitations,” he drawled, continuing as if nothing had happened.

Raziel arched reflexively into the touch--then gave Kain a mock glare when the younger vampire pretended ignorance of what his hands were doing. Gathering up the gambeson, he shrugged it over his arms and head, his voice muffled as he said, "Realistically, we will not be able to equip all our warriors in the way I might wish; not without bringing them to this time first. My clan has their own arms and armor, however, which has served them well through many campaigns. With any luck, the Hylden will not have seen their like before, and we can add the element of surprise to our arsenal."

“If the Hylden were the unspoken, in league with Moebius, then they may have seen more than we might imagine,” Kain warned. He smoothed the padding down and assisted Raziel with the actual chainmail. “Still, I will search out other enchanted items -- amulets, perhaps, that can be added to existing armories -- something to offer a degree of protection against Hylden magics.” Kain knew not how effective that would be -- Hylden weapons were, after all, built to disable and slay the Ancients, and seemed equally effective against their vampire descendants. Kain stroked his claws down the elder’s torso, fingering the fine interlock of the gold-hued rings, and then a little lower. ‘Helpfully,’ he took the liberty of adjusting Raziel, making certain the armor would not pinch someplace it should not.

The chainmail was amazingly light and fine as it settled over his shoulders, with no more weight than that of a heavy leather jerkin. Raziel helped tug it into place, admiring the fineness of the interlocking rings, and was cinching shut the wing-slits on the back when he felt Kain's hands move even lower, caressing, in order to 'adjust' the fit with meticulous care. He bit back a reflexive growl of pleasure, arching a little into that hand. "If you want this armor to fit, you are going about it the wrong way," he said sardonically. He could not help but glance downward, wondering what Gana thought of the byplay.

“Too-loose mail can have most deleterious effects on safety,” Kain pointed out, squeezing slightly as if to test just that. Normally, this type of close-fitting chainmail would have room enough for a solid-plate codpiece over the padding and under the mail -- Raziel would have to have a few extra links added if he wished to wear it so.

Still kneeling at his feet, the winged Ancient was watching Raziel closely, lips just a little parted. When she noticed his attention, she glanced to the side, a blush rising.

Raziel groaned a little under his breath, his own hand snapping out to catch Kain's wrist before he thoroughly embarrassed himself. "Somehow I do not believe it is my safety that you truly have in mind at this moment." Gana's blush, however, was intriguing--as was her obvious interest. "Perhaps we should ask a more expert source," he remarked, and extended a hand down to her in invitation.

Gana blinked, and looked between Raziel and Kain -- and then took Raziel’s hand with cautious reverence, curving her sky-blue talons gently around his far more deadly digits. “I will... go retrieve an armorer?” she asked, standing.

Kain snorted softly. “No. Tell us, what do you think of the fit of this armor, particularly for creatures without wings? And would it be of use against the Hylden?”

Gana paused, then nodded her understanding, and moved to circle the pair of men slowly. She tugged lightly at the armor in places, judging. “It is very good armor,” she pointed out. “Weapons break against it -- even glyphweapons. Not as good against energy attacks.” She ducked under one of Raziel’s half-spread wings, looking at the ties that cinched the wingslits. The strip of chainmail that ran between Raziel’s wings was perhaps just a little too broad, and Gana ran her hand down it, trying to determine if the misfit was a hampering one.

Raziel could not prevent the reflexive shiver at that touch--out of pleasure, not apprehension--and after a moment, unfolded his wings further, flexing them forward and back, trying to gauge how the armor lay without seeing it. "Energy attacks such as lightning or firebolt spells? Or some other manner of energy?" he asked, thinking of the strange machines of Haven. "And could your armorers design such mail for wingless creatures as well?"

“Not so good with Hylden energy, like the... green barriers,” Gana said, “much better at blocking elemental energy, like firebolt,” Gana said, after a moment to sort out the words in her head. “As yes, for unwinged, could just close these gaps with more links,” she said, patting the relevant wingslits. She noticed Raziel craning his neck to observe the fit of the armor as best he could. “We should move to where the mirrors are?” she asked, glancing between Kain and Raziel.

“Lead the way,” Kain stated wryly, picking up a few more pieces of armor to try. The guardswoman was retreating towards a large, broad archway that evidently led to some manner of bedchamber, judging by the rich fabrics and warm, dim lighting. The bed, if such it was, seemed to be mainly just a broad, low platform, lightly padded, but scattered with a variety of pillows and cushions evidently meant to prop wings comfortably during sleep.

Straightening and folding his wings once more, Raziel also moved to the bedchamber, the mail ringing softly as he walked. He followed Gana to the mirror she pointed out and turned without being urged, looking back over his shoulder as he spread his wings and scrutinized the mail once more. "My wings seem to be somewhat lower in placement than yours," he remarked, seeing the open gaps on the upper end of the wing-slits, and the bunched chain below. "Though such alterations should be easy enough to make. And if this armor indeed is proof against elemental magic as well as Hylden weapons, it is most useful indeed." No armor protected against everything, after all. Thinking of alterations brought another name to mind, and he glanced at Gana. "Have you heard of a smith named Vorador? A human smith?"

“Vorador? Yes, he is very famous,” Gana nodded. “He forged the Reaver -- other things, too. You want him to come here, make the alterations?”

Kain froze in the act of laying his burdens upon the dressing-table. “Vorador... is still human?” he breathed.

Gana considered the wingslits, tugging the edges of the mail together in places, trying to see where more buckles might fit best. “Still? Yes,” she said absently.

Raziel's mouth quirked upward in a smile at Kain's astonishment--it was rare to see his sire so shocked, even as a fledgling. "No, I do not require him to make the alterations--no doubt such minor repairs would be an insult to an armorsmith of his skill," he said, his amusement plain. He wondered whether how much the human Vorador was like or unlike the arrogant hedonist that he and Kain had known. And if that elder Vorador would remember them, if they visited him in this time ...

Kain shook his head. Astounding -- Vorador had seemed to him as immutable as a mountain. “But the Pillars were raised some three decades ago. Vorador must be... how old is he?”

Gana shrugged slightly, her eyes falling on the other pieces Kain had brought. No amount of tugging or measuring would make this chainmail fit any better, but perhaps the banded armor... she began unbuckling the set Raziel wore. “I do not know. Fifty, maybe? But he would be honored to come make better armor for you,” she directed that last to Raziel.

Raziel snorted. "Honored? Only if Vorador is a great deal less irascible as a human than he was as an elder." Kain had spoken of his dealings with Vorador more than once--and Raziel himself had been treated with the rough side of the elder's tongue, even while Vorador gave him the aid he sought. "Vorador's work is truly extraordinary--but I do not think we will have the time to wait on his creations," he added with some regret, and began undoing the buckles of the mail he wore.

Gana ducked her head a little, assisting with the many catches that held the armor tight. “For Janos, he would come,” she said with assurance. Vorador might have grown famously tempestuous over the years, but then, what artist didn’t? Even if he was merely human.

Something still seemed to be disturbing Kain. “Do the Ancients know of Vorador’s fate?” he asked Raziel, switching to a future era’s common tongue. Fifty was relatively old, for a human.

"You mean his eventual change into a vampire? Or his death at the hands of the humans?" Raziel asked in the same language. "The first, I do not believe they know yet--Janos did not even know it was possible to turn a human into a vampire, until I told him. But Janos will become Vorador's sire--of that I am sure."

“The former,” answered Kain, frowning. “You... do not fear that the Ancients might not be successful in turning Vorador?” he asked. To be sure, his future, and evidently Raziel’s future, included the old vampire’s presence. However, there was no surety that the Ancients would make the choices leading to that future, particularly now that he and Raziel were meddling in this era. He paused, reluctantly -- “The creation of fledglings is neither instinctual, nor, I think, easy.”

"We have both known Vorador as a vampire, which means the Ancients succeeded in it," Raziel pointed out. "As to derailing the flow of history so that he does *not*--I can only hope that we cannot affect the timestream so easily. For if so, we pose an incalculable risk simply by remaining in this era." He shrugged off the mail over his shoulders, and handed the armor to Gana's waiting hands. "Creating fledglings is not easy, but I am sure the Ancients will succeed once they have bent their minds and wills to the task. Indeed, they must succeed, or you and I will cease to exist."

Kain gave that due consideration. Could he have survived, had it not been for Vorador’s aid? Perhaps not. Kain nodded slowly. “Then adversely affecting Vorador’s turning would surely create a paradox, which history would not permit, therefore a paradox will not occur. If I understand the nature of the timestream properly,” he added. And as for the presence of two Reavers in this era... well. If they were not brought together, the situation should be safe enough. Somewhat bemusedly, he passed the ornately spiked suit of banded mail to Gana who had been waiting patiently for him to relinquish it.

Raziel made a bit of a face at the elaborate spikes on the banding, but let Gana fit it on him with no demur. "The timestream is not easily altered, despite your experience with William the Just, Kain. The Time Guardian and I spent some time speaking of our actions and their potential consequences. I told Janos of the vampires to come because it is destined to happen regardless--and indeed, perhaps history requires our presence here in order to fulfill that purpose." Which made his head hurt a bit, thinking of all the circles within circles that comprised his and Kain's intertwined destinies.

Kain inclined his head. “I shall leave the matter to you, then.” Not only did he have little choice, in all reality, but the fact remained that Raziel was far more capable of grasping the depth of concepts at play, by virtue of a longer perspective and far more information, if nothing else. He stepped before Raziel, assisting with one of the pauldrons that fit over the jointed breastplate -- and then stepped closer still, the short, sharp spines of the banded mail drawing scrapes upon his skin. “Check the fit at the base of his wings,” Kain ordered the guardswoman.

“Here?” asked Gana, closing her hand over the place, a little perplexed since none of the armor’s bands crossed that bony plate.

"Kain ..." Raziel growled in warning, seeing the light in his sire's eyes--then arched with a gasp, his eyes slipping shut as those taloned hands caressed the achingly sensitive flesh. His wings, already outspread, shuddered a little in reaction as his cock roused, pressing a little against the armor that confined it.

Gana gasped and promptly stepped back, afraid of hurting Raziel, thus denying him that fleeting touch. Raziel’s arching motion lifted the armor’s spiked against Kain’s skin, slitting through the thin leather he wore to draw beads of sweet-scented blood across his chest and shoulders. “Yes, Raziel?” Kain purred in the elder’s ear, perfectly content to continue teasing Raziel to near madness over the course of the armor-fitting.

Raziel's only answer was another wordless growl as he hooked a taloned hand around the back of Kain's neck, dragging him closer and pressing a fierce kiss on those pale lips. Gana's hands were not on him anymore, but he knew well how Kain wanted this game to end ...

Kain returned the kiss with a deep rumble of satisfaction, grinding against Raziel’s body -- carefully, for the elder’s armor was built to prevent just such close contact. Their long fangs bloodied both mouths, drawing fine cuts. The brief taste of Raziel was brilliantly potent. “I take it you are... satisfied with this armor, then?” Kain laughed, breaking the kiss and stroking his hand teasingly down the elder’s side and back, teasingly close to the plated joint where his wings joined.

A thread of that growl was still in Raziel's voice as he replied, "Far from it--after all, it seems to do little to protect me from you ..." Despite the complaint, he arched into the teasing touches, mutely begging for more, and suddenly hating the spiked armor that kept his flesh confined. Nuzzling down Kain's neck, he set teeth lightly upon the arched cords, barely enough to pierce the flesh. Then he lifted his head again, swiping a tongue over the vanishing wound, and looked over with a hazed golden gaze at where Gana still stood uncertainly.

"I will not command you to remain," he said in the human tongue. "Your touch was most welcome, however ...." he glanced at Kain for confirmation. This was not the first time he had played such games with his sire, but Kain's possessive jealousy was a chancy and unpredictable thing at times.

Kain rumbled a deep, amused growl, tilting his head to better permit the nipping bite, and purring in pleasure at the small, teasing pain. Odd, the thought of offering his throat to any other was simply unacceptable, but Raziel.... “If it dissuits you, it ought be removed, should it not?” The back of his hand pressed hard against Raziel’s trapped groin as Kain reached for one of the buckles.

Gana’s wings were fluffed with uncertainty. She’d not abandon her post, but....

Kain lifted his head, inhaling just slightly, catching the Ancient’s scent. “Come here,” Kain directed, gesturing. “Here,” he ordered, capturing one of the woman’s wrists and setting the soft-taloned hand against the sensitive place near the small of Raziel’s back.

“Oh,” she breathed, touch feather-light against the place. Very carefully, Gana set to exploring that bony joint, alert for any sign of displeasure from Raziel.

Raziel gave an aggravated half-growl, half groan as his senses were assaulted from both sides. He rocked first into Kain's hand, then pushed back into Gana's exquisitely delicate touch, dignity dropping away as a needy whine escaped from his throat. "Yes--take it off," he managed to say, then arched again as Gana's fingers slipped down his sides to where bony plate met the root of his wings, and the delicate skin that covered them. The careful grooming he had participated in a few days ago had only enhanced the sensitivity of such flesh, and he shuddered a little in reaction, his hands tightening their grip on Kain as if for support.

Kain hummed a sly agreement, stroking up Raziel’s corded arms to find the plate-covered buckles of his armor. One of the bloody-spiked pauldrons came free, then the other, Kain lifting them from Raziel’s shoulders while those sharp-taloned hands clenched into his hips. Kain’s own skin was thicker now, a little less fragile, and the cutting pressure was most pleasurable.

Behind Raziel, Gana touched with reverent care, exploring the skin where the membrane of Raziel’s wings joined his back. The tips of her talons slid gently under the plate itself, where she could feel tendons flex and jump beneath skin as soft as velveteen. Her free hand stroked down Raziel’s spine, lingering just above the bony joint, where flight muscles bunched thickly.

Then Raziel’s breastplate could at last be peeled away, Kain stepped closer, hips pressing against Raziel’s, his bloodied chest smearing purple-red upon the elder’s skin. Voicing a deeply rumbling growl, Kain bit at Raziel’s throat, clamping down demandingly, though his fangs, for the moment, drew but shallow gouges.

Attacked by sensation from both sides, Raziel found himself caught between them, writhing as he tried to push back and then forward simultaneously. He arched his neck, offering his throat to Kain, heedless of the utter submission in the gesture and shuddering at the exquisite pleasure as those long fangs scored his skin. "Kain ..." he breathed, the name an open benediction. Behind, his wings half-opened, flexing and shivering as Gana caressed the sensitive flesh at their base.

The corners of Kain’s mouth turned up, and he purred his pleasure against the soft part of Raziel’s throat, lapping over the bloodied skin. The elder’s taste, even so little of it, was like a mouthful of pure darkness, like shade in a land of sun and sand. Glorious. “Gana,” Kain grated, and the guard looked up, startled. Her pupils were dilated with a cartain urgency -- the scent of the vampires’ blood in the air was deeply alluring. “Go kneel upon the bed,” Kain ordered, and with a brief pause, the Ancient obeyed. One last, slow, grinding undulation of his hips against Raziel, and Kain pulled away, drawing Raziel back towards the padded platform.

Acutely aware of the loss of Gana's living warmth, so different from Kain's cool flesh, Raziel followed him blindly, his cock already aching from their attentions. Once at the sleeping platform, Raziel paused, drawing Kain close once more, hands sliding down the muscled lines of the younger vampire's back, pressing another brief, fierce kiss on his mouth--then tugged him downward, onto the pillows.

Raziel’s presumption was met with a bloody-fanged snarl and resistance. Kain might not be able to prevent the far-stronger elder from simply moving him if Raziel pleased, but his present distraction provided an opportunity. Kain slithered from Raziel’s grasp, with a hard nip to the side of his throat. His hand closed over Raziel’s groin, kneading, as he pressed one of Raziel’s wings closed a little, enough to twist around and press his chest to the elder’s back. “I want to see you... with your cock down her throat,” Kain breathed, nuzzling almost sweetly against Raziel’s ear.

Suppressing a reflexive growl of his own, Raziel still could not help but press into that touch. A hazed golden gaze settled on Gana, still kneeling obediently upon the sleeping platform. "Gana," he said, switching to the human tongue. He stretched out a hand. "Attend me."

The guardswoman’s feathers fluffed a little with uncertainty -- perhaps she had not understood... “Maître?” she asked -- ‘Master’ in the Ancients’ tongue, and an honorific rarely used.

Kain thrummed a low rumble of amusement, and urged Raziel forward, to kneel facing the Ancient, upon the large bed. Kain followed. “Come here,” he ordered the guard, and Gana hesitantly shuffled forward, gaze flicking between Raziel and Kain. With care, Kain pressed a little harder at the padding and leather encasing Raziel’s groin, slitting the breeches delicately open with the sharp side of a nail, cupping the flesh that strained through the opening. “Attend him here, with your mouth,” Kain purred.

Gana’s eyes widened, though she slowly dropped to hands and knees, wings spreading a little, inadvertently, like living blankets of glossy black across the bed. “But I... my teeth?” she asked, biting her lip. The Ancients had rather daintier fangs than their undead descendants, but they were no less sharp.

Raziel sucked in a breath at the feel of Kain's talons--now much sharper and longer than they had been before--so close to his softest flesh. Kain's grip was careful, but sure, and he was torn between pressing himself into those fingers and remaining utterly still, for fear those claws would slip. Instead he moved slowly, shifting his knees a little wider in invitation. "I am not so fragile as all that--but go slowly ... and carefully," he said hoarsely, suppressing the urge to reach for her as the slight movement sent new sparks of pleasure through his aching cock. He had a rather higher tolerance for pain than most--again, courtesy of Kain.

Kain murmured praise, pressing bloody-mouthed kisses against the back of Raziel’s neck, his shoulder. “Beautiful, ah Raziel. Very good...” Kain adjusted his grip, rocking the center of his palm against Raziel’s cock, then wrapping his fingers ‘round the base, holding the shaft steady.

Gana glanced down, and swallowed visibly. Eyes turned up, trying to watch for Raziel’s reaction even as she bent forward, the Ancient moved down far enough to bring her mouth in alignment with the head of that near-frighteningly thick cock. Her breath was hot on Raziel’s cool flesh. Very cautiously, she licked a somewhat trembling line up the underside of his cock, and when Raziel did not stop her, she spread her lips for the tip of him.

That tentative lick, Gana's breath ghosting warmly over the sensitized head of his erect flesh, was a sweet torture indeed. Raziel finally reached out, burying one hand into her glossy black hair, feeling the silken strands glide over his talons. A shudder ran through him as she wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock, and he groaned low in his throat. "That's ... just like that ..."

Kain tugged lightly at the lobe of Raziel’s ear with blunt incisors, ducking to lap at the cords of his throat, just filling Raziel’s senses with the rumbling vibration that built in his chest. He squeezed just a little at the base of the elder’s shaft, a constant reminder of his presence even as Gana opened further for Raziel’s cock.

Gana’s mouth was soft and hot, but the seal of her lips was not entirely tight as she tentatively flicked her tongue carefully over Raziel’s flesh -- her relative inexperience showed, perhaps charmingly. The Ancient made as if to pull back after a moment, as if to ask a question, only to find herself held, trapped, by the iron-firm grip on her hair. She hesitated, then moved a little deeper instead, still watching Raziel as best she could.

Thankfully, Gana's inexperience did little to lessen Raziel's pleasure. Her mouth was hot and wet, her fangs a delicate prickling along his shaft, and he shifted, letting more of his weight sink back against Kain as his knees threatened to give way. He managed to restrain the instinctive thrusts, making only tiny, hitched movements that ground his hips against Kain's own hardness. But the feel of Kain's mouth on his throat, the building aura of his presence--it was almost as Raziel remembered it, and he sank into it gratefully, arching his neck in a silent offering of his blood to his sire.

Kain purred his pleasure, supporting Raziel’s weight as he rocked back, wrapping one arm around the elder’s chest. Raziel’s offering was accepted, and gladly -- Kain nuzzled for a few moments against that ivory column of throat, and then bit, ruthlessly, fangs forcing deep punctures, only to draw free of the wounds and sink through skin again. The bites were messy, but shallow, Kain relishing the darksome sweetness of those brief tastes. Glorious -- so much strength, potence... Kain squeezed a little harder around Raziel’s shaft, then released for a moment and reached up, slicking his palm over Raziel’s bloodied throat, the wounds there already healed. The rich scent of Raziel’s blood, when Kain returned his hand to the elder’s cock, made the Ancient shiver and whine around her mouthful.

“Deeper,” Kain murmured in instruction, languidly kissing against Raziel’s throat, as he slowly spread purple-black down the length of Raziel’s shaft. Shuddering, Gana obeyed, tongue lapping eagerly against the underside of Raziel, gasping with the bloodcurse’s need, too lost to protest the notion of thusly tasting her messiah. She whined softly as the head of Raziel’s cock nudged the back of her throat, trying to reach more of him with her tongue.

Raziel gasped as Gana swallowed him whole, her tongue lashing against the achingly sensitive flesh. "Kain, I--" he tried to warn, arching into that avid mouth, his grip tightening on her bowed head. His control slipped--and he bucked against Kain's grip, his cock sliding deliciously over that tongue, withdrawing just enough to feel her panting breaths, then inward again, disappearing between her spread lips to nudge at her throat. He realized dimly he was reaching the edge far too fast--spurred on by Kain's possessive bites--and his cock swelled, his balls tightened as he felt his sire's fingers squeeze him once more.

“Control, Raziel,” Kain purred, running his free hand slowly down the elder’s chest, pausing to pinch and flick the edges of his nails against the pebbled rise of one nipple, “or shall I bind you?” He squeezed a little harder around the base of Raziel’s shaft, then released to make room as the elder’s claws tightened, pulling Gana further down upon his cock.

The Ancient choked, twisting a little as the thick head pushed its way into the rippling clench of her throat, but quickly stilled, remembering her own fangs. She breathed heavily through her nose, swallowing, her flesh hot and vise-tight around Raziel. Even still her tongue laved against the base of his shaft, trying to capture every small smear of blood.

If Raziel had an answer, it was lost in the pleasure that was rapidly reducing him to incoherency. All he could manage was a tortured growl, shuddering as Gana continued to worship his erect flesh, taking in every last inch of him until he could feel every movement of her tongue, every slight convulsive swallow of her throat. He almost came then and there--it took everything he had to stave off his orgasm in obedience to his sire, and he still was not sure how long that would last. Some remnant of consciousness had him unclenching his hand from Gana's hair before he did irreparable harm, reaching up instead to grab Kain's arm, talons digging in roughly as he used the younger vampire for support.

Kain gasped, growled, against Raziel’s throat as those talons scored easily through the leather he wore, his own skin, however toughened, even less protection against the serrated edges than the armor. That hot shock of pain, and the view before him, had Kain rocking his hips against Raziel’s ass, biting again into the elder’s throat, just glorying in the pleasure of having such a responsive creature bending to _his_ will.... “Oh yes,” Kain breathed, slicking his bloodied tongue against Raziel’s throat, nipping at his ear, “...beautiful killer.”

Kain tangled his own fist in Gana’s hair, and drew her off Raziel’s cock. The Ancient whined softly, wings stirring against the bed, as the shaft slipped from her lips. “Undress,” he instructed her in a commanding growl. She licked her lips, pupils dilated wide as if drugged by the power in that brief taste of Raziel’s blood, and obeyed.

“There, so good,” Kain crooned in Raziel’s ear, urging him to kneel up a little, even as Kain continued to kiss and stroke. He reached between them, found the waist of Raziel’s breeches, and carefully began to slit downwards, cutting through the leather with hard nails.

A low groan of protest escaped Raziel as Gana was drawn away from his aching cock, the cold air prickling over the moistened flesh. He writhed under Kain's hands, pressing backward wantonly, searching for some relief as his breeches were cut away--but his hands did not move down to finish what Gana had started. Even now, he knew better than that. Instead he begged mutely with his body, with every slow twist and arch, for Kain to bring him to completion.

Kain laughed softly against Raziel’s skin. “So eager,” he breathed, “so perfect. _Mine..._ ” He thought of keeping Raziel like this for hours... the notion was nearly undoing, in and of itself. The painful tightness of Kain’s own breeches served to grant him a fraction more control, and he gestured Gana forward.

The Ancient crawled closer, slinking forward, eyes heavy-lidded and wings trembling. Kain gripped her shoulder, pulled her up to press against Raziel’s chest as tightly as he was against the elder’s back. Unbidden, Gana lapped urgently at Raziel’s throat, whining softly at the taste of the blood Kain had left smeared there. She straddled Raziel’s hips, trying to get closer, to get more....

Kain reached out to the side, and summoned what he wanted to hand. The phallus was slender, but ridged. Kain slicked it with his mouth. “Let me see you take her,” he purred, and slid the tip of the phallus to press against Raziel’s ass.

Raziel gasped a little, torn between the desire to press back and to thrust forward. "Yess ..." he growled, and reached for Gana, pulling her closer, taloned fingers sliding around the underside of her wings and burying themselves in those ebony feathers, stroking roughly. He pulled her a little upward, feeling her suckle at his throat as his cock slid against her slick heat, parting the folds of her slit. Then, unable to restrain himself any further, he lunged upward, pushing himself inexorably into her, giving a low cry as her hot, wet velvet body was impaled on his aching flesh.

Raziel’s call was echoed by the Ancient, her lithe body erupting in a kind of frustrated struggle -- away from the pain of the relentless impalement, into the pleasure, and the narcotic sweetness of the black blood smeared upon Raziel’s throat.

Kain followed the surge of Raziel’s hips, pressing the phallus deeper, the ridges grazing against Raziel’s prostate as he angled the intrusion just so. “There, oh, Raziel...” Kain growled, “now, be still. Hold,” he commanded, voice like broken gravel as he eased the flared shaft inside, giving the base a teasing twist. One last kiss to the back of Raziel’s neck, and he reluctantly moved away, pushing the pillows aside... to kneel behind Gana.

Over the Ancient’s black feathers, Kain locked his eyes on Raziel’s hazed golden gaze. And at last reached to the laces that held his own breeches closed, tearing through them indiscriminately. “Hold her,” he ordered, freeing his own straining cock.

Raziel did what he was bid as best he could, holding fast, sunk deep into the sweet depths of Gana's body. Involuntary shudders wracked his frame as he held, panting a little from need, his fingers flexing on those glorious wings, combing through the feathers blindly. The phallus that had opened him up was a sweet torment, pressing against his prostate with each little shift of his body without giving him anything to push against. He was doubly deprived from the true satisfaction he craved; only Kain, he thought dimly, could devise such ingenious torments.

As far gone as he was, it did not occur to him to ask whether Gana's experience extended to such games. Instead he lifted his chin, baring his neck and encouraging those dainty fangs, even as he held her fast with iron strength, refusing to let her retreat.

With gritted teeth, Kain fisted his shaft, let the tip of his cock just press lightly against Gana’s body, slipping forward to nudge teasingly -- threateningly -- at the tight-stretched place where Raziel was impaled. He lingered a moment, slicking himself with the wetness there. And then moved back, repositioning the head of his cock.

Gana panted against Raziel’s throat, her struggles easing now. She did not take the invitation for that it was, exactly, for to bite the divine benefactor... but her fangs scraped, almost inadvertently, drawing fine lines of black that sealed almost instantly. Then her eyes widened. She gave a choking gasp, half a scream, and clung to Raziel, shuddering. “...Please! Oh!” Her wings jerked in his grip, pinions fluttering against his sides, and one or two of the black feathers drifted to the pillows, shorn against the edges of Raziel’s talons.

The Ancient’s body clenched, trembling, around Raziel, the grip forced still tighter as Kain made his entry. The head of his cock pressed inexorably into her ass, separated from Raziel’s organ only by a thin partition of flesh. Hissing with pleasure and the effort of restraint, Kain sank slowly in, feeling Raziel through the conduit of the blue-skinned being’s body.

"Yes, mnh....so tight, so sweet," Raziel gasped, feeling Kain's entrance, every inch of it, almost as if he were the one being penetrated thus. Gana's body was vise-tight around him, stretched to the limit as she was impaled helplessly on their cocks, her hands clawing at his back in reaction. Her head came up, and he sealed his lips to hers in a fiercely possessive kiss, swallowing her little pained cries. He did not dare move--not yet. He was riding the edge as it was, and the slow rub of Kain's flesh through the velvet-hot walls of Gana's body was a dark pleasure, one that he wanted to last rather than spill himself too soon. One hand stroked down her back, drawing her close, feeling the soft weight of her breasts crushed against his chest--the other reached for Kain, wanting to feel him as well.

“Aah, Raziel,” Kain rumbled, turning his face into Raziel’s sharp-edged hand when he reached for Kain’s shoulder, pressing a nipping kiss into the center of that ridged palm. Kain watched Raziel duck his head, capturing the Ancient’s mouth, kissing until she could only gasp for the breath he allowed her between each slick probe of tongue. With a low and darksome laugh, Kain tightened his grip upon Gana’s hip, giving a last jarring little thrust that seated himself fully. With his free hand, Kain reached lower, found the base of the phallus embedded in Raziel’s ass, and gave it a hard, twisting little push.

The sudden and unexpected thrust caused Raziel to throw his head up with a gasp, breaking the kiss. Reflexively, he lunged upward, his cock sliding deeper--then, with a low growl, he pulled slowly back, feeling her flinch and tremble against him. "If only ... you could see yourself like this," he murmured hoarsely to her dazed, upturned face. "Spread open ... so beautifully ..." Then even that remnant of eloquence left him as the phallus rubbed hard inside, sending another jolt of pleasure arcing through him.

Gana cried out again at the rough penetration, but the sound was huskier, more confused, caught between pain and pleasure, and both overlaid with the taste that vibrated through her senses, the feel of having several millennia of refined power in her mouth as she lapped and nuzzled at Raziel’s throat. “Please,” she breathed, not certain for what she pleaded, “please, oh, mon Dieu! Please!” But her abortive struggles began to ease, Raziel’s murmured words sinking in.

Kain was unable to wait until the Ancient had calmed entirely before shifting his hips, angling Gana as he pleased -- and he could feel Raziel inside her, rubbing against him as firmly as if he had clasped both their shafts in the grip of his hand, but slick and so very hot.... Kain slowly began to withdraw, shuddering with the pleasure as Gana clenched down, tightening still further around both their cocks. Kain’s hand slid from the base of the phallus inside Raziel, claws painting fine scrapes up the column of Raziel’s spine. He could manage only to withdraw half way before the lure of bliss became too strong, and, gasping, Kain rolled his hips upwards, forcing his entry -- and as he did, his hand closed upon the bony joint at the base of Raziel’s wings.

Raziel stiffened, arching hard against the touch. "K-Kain!" The name was a broken cry as he trembled finely on the edge, overwhelmed by sensation on all sides: the clasp of Gana's body, the feel of Kain's talons against his wings, Kain's cock sliding hard against his own as his sire thrust hard inward. It was all too much, and Raziel lost the last remnants of his control, thrusting deeply into Gana, the phallus shifting with each movement. It was frantic, and deep, Raziel having been teased for too long to draw out his pleasure even if he wished to. Lowering his head, he tasted her throat with a suckling, sharp-edged kiss, fangs cutting through the azure skin and letting the first taste of her sweet blood fall over his tongue, hot with life and an Ancient's power.

Gana cried out with the sudden sharp pain, her arms tightening around Raziel, her feathers trembling against his skin as her wings inadvertently beat, as much as they could with the tangle of limbs and bodies. She clenched down around them, body spasming again and again, helplessly as the two paler vampires set up a brutal rhythm between them.

“Ah, Raziel, yes...” Kain managed, gasping, struggling for his own control even as he watched the elder bow his head, watched his lips part against sky-blue skin, saw the brief glint of fangs. Each small, urgent thrust of Raziel’s hips drove him just that much closer to his own brink. Kain maintained control for as long as he could, teasing, tormenting, stroking now against Raziel’s wings, now angling the phallus to rub hard against Raziel’s prostate. But at last, shaking with the effort, Kain forced his own hips still and unclasped his claws from Gana’s hip.

He stroked a fine, cutting line over Raziel’s shoulder, just in front of Gana’s face. The fledgling Ancient, gasping, lost the last thread of self control and bit into Raziel’s flesh, sinking narrow fangs shallowly. Kain pressed against the phallus still within Raziel, and pressed his fingertips into the most delicate place, at the base of Raziel’s wings, both at the same time -- the tips of his claws scoring tiny scraping cuts upon the velveteen skin.

The sharp pleasure-pain of Gana's fangs sinking into his skin, the scoring of Kain's talons against his back--they undid him completely. With a hoarse cry Raziel came, bucking upward and clutching at Gana and Kain both convulsively as his orgasm swept him up, made him blind and senseless to anything but the cascading pleasure that filled his body. It seemed to last forever, the sensations unspooling outward as he spilled his seed and hung onto them both as if they were the only solid things left in the world.

The bite of Raziel’s talons into Kain’s side was a welcome distraction, for he could feel each of the other vampire’s shuddering little thrusts of completion, transmitted through Gana’s flesh. And the sight of Raziel like this, in extremis, his expression so blissfully lost -- “Beautiful,” Kain murmured, drawing his hands free to cup the elder’s face, to stroke his hair back and lay a heavy hand against his spine. “Just so, ah, there,” he crooned a low rumble of praise into Raziel’s ear, “I have you, Raziel.”

Gana’s eyes were heavy-lidded, her pupils blown so wide the feral gold was a rind around the black, even as her body rocked upon the dual impalements, clenching in little aftershocks of pleasure. She might be an Ancient, but she was also a very young vampire, and Raziel’s near-black blood was so potent, she was nearly senseless with the ecstasy of even a few mouthfuls. Gana seemed not even to notice when, at last, Kain began to withdraw.

Kain slipped his cock from the Ancient’s body, still painfully erect. He disentangled Raziel’s talons and dropped a hand to wrap his fingers around the base of himself, squeezing, just trying to keep from spilling over. Shuffling a bit awkwardly, Kain moved a little to the side, easing Gana -- and Raziel with her -- back into the pillows. The Ancient’s wings spread like a moonless night across the bed.

Still trembling finely in the aftermath of his climax, Raziel submitted to the changes in position without protest, his expression dazed. The taste of Gana's blood, the softness of her body underneath him, around him still; it was a sweet pleasure. But far more than that was Kain's voice in his ear, his sire's hands on his body, guiding, taking ... there was a rightness in all of it that was undeniable, like the last puzzle-piece sliding into place. Raziel had been mastered long ago, even if Kain did not know it yet; tamed just enough to always return to his sire's hand.

It was a submission that might, very soon, be sorely tested. Stroking along Raziel’s sides, down his spine, the insides of his leather-clad thighs, Kain arranged the elder to his liking, so that Kain could kneel between his legs. Raziel’s wings were already spread enough to bare that sensitive juncture where they joined his back. Kain paused a moment simply to admire -- the marbled white skin crossed by vibrant blue where Gana’s arm wrapped over Raziel’s back, the dappled cream of his wings -- gorgeous. Kain bent his head, nuzzling against the place his claws had drawn blood. The wounds were long gone; he licked away the beaded blood. “It seems, Raziel,” Kain purred against the base of Raziel’s wings, “that you came without permission, did you not?”

It took a while for the words to register. Raziel arched into the touch, his wings shivering and spreading a little under the wet caress of Kain's lips. His skin was acutely sensitized in the aftermath of his orgasm, and he could still feel the hard presence of the phallus within him. "Wh-what?"

“Indeed, Raziel. _What_ shall be done with you?” Kain had ordered Raziel to maintain control, had even offered him assistance in that regard. The game, of course, had been rigged -- the deck stacked in Kain’s favor. Which was exactly how he preferred to play. Still tonguing at the velvet-soft skin that covered the joint of Raziel’s wings, Kain grasped the base of the phallus and slowly began to withdraw its length, teasingly, twisting it to make those ridges rub inside.

"I didn't--unh!" The phallus suddenly seemed a great deal larger as Raziel felt Kain draw it out, the ridges rubbing against an already-sensitized prostate as it was twisted. Dimly, he realized Kain was far from done with his game--and that knowledge brought a shudder over his skin, though whether it was from trepidation or anticipation, he couldn't say. He tried to push himself upward on shaking arms, to push himself closer to Kain's hands, his cock--spent as it was--twitching in reaction.

Gana murmured in dazed protest under Raziel at his movement, rousing only enough to lap once more at his blood-smeared shoulder. Her thick feathers were slick and soft under Raziel’s taloned hands. “Easy, Raziel,” Kain soothed, gripping the elder’s hip to still him. He was utterly incapable of truly stopping Raziel from moving, or indeed from halting the game entirely if the elder chose, but Kain was enjoying himself far too much to utilize caution now. The phallus slid free, and Kain tossed it aside, then moved down, lower. And ran his tongue over the stretched little opening.

Raziel sucked in a breath at the moist touch of Kain's tongue, probing and wetting his already-stretched hole. It was too soon after his first climax for his cock to rouse again--but that did not mean that the rest of his flesh could not respond. He arched under the touch, wings shifting upward, hips canting without thought of dignity or shame--at this moment, he was far past caring.

Kain lingered there for a small while, teasing the little ring of muscle, slicking his tongue inside. Without something thicker to keep it stretched, Raziel’s opening slowly began to tighten, the flesh restoring itself to its original state. Kain rumbled a deep thrum, slicking his hand from a summoned vial of oil. He nipped at the curve of Raziel’s ass, leaving twin punctures in the much-abused leather -- and with great care, slowly began pressing two clawed fingers into the prone vampire.

Raziel tensed, his lassitude vanishing at the feel of Kain's taloned fingers pressing inward. His armored skin did not extend so far, and while he would heal almost any injury, Kain could still do him grievous harm without even trying. Raziel was not a masochist--and he remembered vividly some of the more ... pointed ... lessons Kain had given in the past. "Kain ..."

“Shh, Raziel,” Kain purred, punctuating the injunction with another bite, this one sharper. Using two fingers as he was, he could more carefully judge resistance -- Kain backed off a little, readjusting as the tips of his claws brushed even a little too hard against delicate flesh. Still, Raziel’s suddenly-tensed body made the insertion more difficult than it should have been. Kain paused, keeping his hand carefully steady, just his fingertips inside. Gana had shed a handful of feathers over the last quarter-hour, and they lay scattered about the bed like slips of night. Kain picked up the nearest. “Can you feel this?” Kain rumbled, and idly stroked it over Raziel’s skin, letting the pinion flick lightly against the small, bony spar where the membrane of Raziel’s wings met his back.

The barest beginning of a growl died in his throat as the flight feather was flicked over the sensitive patch of skin around the bony join of his wings, and a full-body shudder of reaction betrayed Raziel's answer. He threw his head back, caught between the beginnings of pleasure and the threat of pain, his wings half-furled. "Unh ... yes, I can feel it ..." he managed to gasp.

Kain eased his fingers a little deeper, with a low thrum of satisfaction. “And this?” he queried, stroking the stiffer tip of the feather against the thick tendons that traced up the underside of the wing’s main bone, and then repeating with the motion with the feather’s softer blade. A little deeper, and Kain pressed up, just carefully, slicking the pads of his fingertips firmly over the little node of nerve endings inside Raziel’s body.

"Y-yes ... aah!" Raziel's surprised cry broke in the middle as Kain's fingers pressed hard against the spongy bundle of nerves, his whole body stiffening at the sensation. Closing his eyes, he ducked his head and pressed his mouth against Gana's soft skin, trying to muffle his cries. The feather was an ephemeral caress, barely there, flicking over the sensitive joins of his wings. In contrast, Kain's fingers were hard and unmistakeable, stretching the tender flesh of his ass without mercy.

Purring with darkly pleased laughter, Kain took his time, just stroking the feather over Raziel’s soft skin, letting it follow the curves of muscle and bone, listening and feeling for the places that made Raziel shudder. He scissored his fingers carefully, stretching the delicate flesh, talons perhaps prickling lightly from time to time. “So very good, Raziel,” Kain murmured. He leaned forward, tonguing over one particularly sensitive place, and exhaled cool breath over, chilling and sensitizing the skin. Then he reversed the feather, using the quill end like a stylus to scrape pale pink whorls there, the lines vanishing almost as quickly as they were scratched.

Under Raziel, Gana’s rapid heartbeat was beginning to slow from her exertion, and the wounds in her throat had healed. She tilted her head, offering him better access to her throat, and languidly petted Raziel’s long hair. His small movements ignited a few more clenching little aftershocks, her overstimulated body rippling around Raziel.

That skin trembled finely under Kain's hands, overstimulated and tender, even with the stamina of an elder healing the tiny wounds almost as soon as they were made. Raziel groaned low in his throat, hiding the disquiet of having all Kain's attention on his back, on his wings--refusing to acknowledge his buried fears even as his body tensed and relaxed with each new caress. He mouthed at Gana's throat, interspersing languid suckling kisses with tiny bites, just enough to bring a few crimson pearls to the surface of that soft azure skin.

Kain withdrew his fingers with the same care he’d pressed them inside -- he did not intend to apply Raziel’s punishment there, after all. He laid the feather aside and used his claws to slit the other vampire’s breeches for better access, then straddled the back of Raziel’s thighs. He set the blunt head of his cock against the stretched little opening, nudging at the loosened and slicked ring of muscle, and gripped Raziel’s hip. With a slow pulse of his hips, thrumming with the torturous pleasure, Kain began to ease himself inside.

Oddly enough, that made Raziel relax instead of tensing further. This he knew--the painful pleasure of Kain's flesh pushing into him, forging its way inward and laying claim. This was a part of Kain that he did not fear, and he lifted his hips into the penetration, messy strands of hair falling into his eyes as he gave himself over to feeling every inch of that cock, tacky-slick with oil, as Kain mounted him. "Kain ..." he murmured dazedly, unsure of the words even as they spilled from him. "So good ... so right ...unh ..."

Gana purred a protest as Raziel’s movement nearly withdrew him from her -- with drugged languor she spread her legs a little more, drew a knee up against Raziel’s flank, her own hips lifting, unconsciously trying to keep that feeling of fullness. The heat of her was a stark contrast to Kain’s cool body. “Oh yes, Raziel,” Kain gasped, “tight... so perfect. Beautiful.” It was pure torture to only seat himself, to impale his cock to the hilt and then hold himself utterly still. It was more difficult still to summon the self-control and the will for the spawning of spells, to open a dimensional pocket. But with trembling fingers, Kain withdrew the items he wanted: a bowl, filled with cubes of ice, unchanged from the moment he had tucked them away weeks ago, in Haven. A small box of a sulphur sticks. And a thick candle upon a plate.

“Now,” Kain breathed, “as to your punishment....”

A needy whine, barely audible, escaped Raziel as he pushed back into the impalement, even as Gana's limbs wound around him. Then Kain's words registered, and he stilled. He was not ... afraid, precisely. But Kain could be both merciless and inventive with his 'punishments' ....

The cubes of ice clacked in their bowl as Kain laid his toys near to hand. Water slicked the cubes as they began to slowly melt in the warm air of the room. Kain selected one carefully, with the tips of his nails. He had seen Raziel walk into a lake with no ill effect, but even still, he was alert for any sign of blistering skin or discomfort as he laid the ice upon the curve of Raziel’s lower back, just below the place his wings joined.

There was no scorching hiss, no reaction of the water to the skin other than the icy wet slide of the cubes over pale flesh. Raziel's body, cool rather than human-warm, still flinched a little at the sudden cold on the skin that Kain had taken such care to rouse, clenching a little around the thickeness of his sire's cock. "Nnh ..."

“Ah, Raziel....” Kain rumbled in pleasure at the twitching reaction. He left the chunk of ice where it was for a moment, and took up the little box of sulphur sticks. They were far more useful than flint and tinder for producing a flame -- Kain struck one and lit the candle. It would take a little while to melt sufficiently for his purposes. In the interim, Kain selected another cube of ice, and this time applied it to the corded muscles and tendons of Raziel’s wings directly, where the skin was thin and unshielded by subdermal armor. He did not leave the ice anywhere long enough to numb the flesh, but rather just touched it briefly in places, teasingly, leaving Raziel’s skin glistening with moisture.

This time Raziel's tension was unmistakable, his entire body coiling into apprehensive stillness. There was pleasure in the icy slide of the cubes--his wings were so much more fragile than the rest of him, and thusly so much more sensitive, that it was impossible not to shiver under the sensations produced by the chilly slide of water over membranous skin. But the touch of water brought other, less sensual memories to the fore; and only Raziel's dignity and the knowledge of Kain's ignorance kept him where he was.

This time, Kain could hardly miss the fine trembling, the faint scent of unease and the way Raziel’s wings tried to close, protectively. As delicate as the wings were, they were stronger than they looked, the clawlike tips of two of the long, finger-like spars prickling against his flesh. Icy water trickled down Raziel’s flank, to slide upon heated blue skin. With a murmur of protest, she lazily curved one wing up, blanketing Raziel’s own wings and back with warm black feathers.

The corner of Kain’s mouth curved up in amusement. He gave a small, jarring little thrust, settling himself deeper into Raziel, and the elder deeper into the cradle of the Ancient’s hips and thighs and wings. Kain returned the half-melted chunk of ice to the bowl with the others, and just touched instead for a few moments, smoothing his fingertips over skin damp enough to make his flesh sting.

"Haa ... nh!" Raziel's body tightened again--but not in apprehension this time, but pleasure as Kain's flesh sank even further into him. He closed his eyes and tried to banish the memories that plagued him; focused on Gana's generous warmth, the stiff brush of feathers around him, the ebony down under his palms. Kain's careful caresses were so gentle, so different from the memory of harder, stronger hands ... he focused on that difference with an effort of will, forcing his wings to relax minutely. Still, despite his best efforts, a plea escaped from him--or was it a warning? " ... Kain ... take care ..."

Kain purred a little, a deep rumbling thrum. He smoothed aside Gana’s feathers, stroking the pale, membranous skin they half-concealed. As much as he enjoyed Raziel’s discomfort, his trepidation... he intended Raziel to find this ‘correction’ at least as pleasurable as painful. Which was unlikely to happen, as tense as Raziel was. He lowered his head, nuzzling against the back of Raziel’s neck, and nipped there, just lightly. “I do not intend to damage you,” he breathed into Raziel’s ear. Gripping Raziel’s hips, Kain slowly withdrew himself, just a few fingers’ breadths, then thrust back in again, deeply.

Raziel groaned low in his throat, his aching cock stirring at the slow, shallow thrust. He bowed his head, his hair straggling forward and exposing the nape of his neck in mute submission. A residual tension still tightened his muscles, but old fears seemed hardly a match for Kain's determined onslaught on his senses. His stomach tightened as he felt Kain slide home once more, the slight stinging pain a counterpoint to the lightning-shot sensation of skin against skin.

Kain kissed the exposed nape of Raziel’s neck, tonguing across each vertebrae, one at a time, down the center of Raziel’s back. “Very good, Raziel,” he murmured his approval, using both hands to press Gana’s feathers away from the central join of Raziel’s wings. He traced the lines of muscle and tendon once more with the pad of a fingertip, evaluating.

The red candle had burned long enough to melt a generous puddle of crimson wax. Kain dabbed a fingertip into the edge of the pool, testing the temperature -- hot enough to sting fiercely, but only for a moment. He lifted the candle from its plate. “Be still for me, Raziel,” Kain breathed.

Even with his eyes closed, Raziel could smell the candle, the small flame at its tip--and it did not take Kain's command for him to become utterly, inhumanly still. There was no thunderous heartbeat in his ears, no rasp of breath--nothing but silence, and the slow creak and shift of Kain's movements at his back. Water could no longer harm him--but fire could. And the healing from it would be slow and painful, despite Kain's promises ....

Kain stroked over Raziel’s hip, deeply pleased by the obedience in this. He began on Raziel’s right side, at the sensitive place just to the inside of the joint, tipping the candle so that a few drops of bright red wax dripped down the side. The droplets cooled a little as they fell, but still had a liquid heat to them as they splashed upon Raziel’s already-chilled skin.

Raziel flinched reflexively as the hot wax hit his skin, half-expecting the searing burn of the flame instead. But the stinging of the wax faded quickly into a spreading warmth, and he let out a low relieved breath, relaxing infinitesimally. The wax cooled quickly, hardening--he shivered, his cock hardening even further as he fought the urge to arch upward, into Kain's hands. "Nnh ... m-my ..." he bit off the 'my lord' just in time, curbing his traitorous tongue.

“Good, Raziel, magnificent,” Kain murmured, letting more of the wax drip into Raziel’s skin. He traced the contours of Raziel’s musculature between his wings, over the joints and the layered tendons there. The red liquid cooled and hardened in the soft hollows, the grooves where bone met muscle. Kain set the candle back upon its plate, to melt more wax, while he selected another cube of ice from the bowl, carefully, with the tips of his nails. Slowly rocking his hips against Raziel’s, Kain let the chunk of ice ghost over the pattern of bright red wax he’d poured.

The alternating stinging heat and cold was maddening on his sensitized skin, especially in the soft places around his wings that he himself could not easily reach. Mindful of Kain's orders, Raziel did his best to keep still--but little shudders of sensation kept breaking through his resolve, his wings flexing minutely as he made abortive little movements upward, against Kain's icy caresses.

“There, ah -- lovely,” Kain crooned, and repeated the process several more times, icing skin, then heating it with the stinging wax, then cooling again. He paused occasionally, between applications, to thrust lazily, a slow oil-slicked glide, never enough to push himself over the edge. Gana, still recovering, took notice of Raziel’s small movements, enough to press her hips up, tightening around his cock.

The wax dripped over Raziel’s back followed the lines of muscles, drawing a rough figure like a chalice with an elongated stem, separated down the middle by the rise of Raziel’s spine.

Unaware of the symbol being formed on his back, Raziel shuddered with the effort it took not to thrust into Gana's slick heat, to buck into Kain's impalement. "K-Kain, I can't ..." he broke off, arching frantically as a little trickle of wax pooled in a sensitive hollow of one wing-joint. He stroked the soft flesh that cradled him, drawing his palm over those stiffened nipples, trying to distract himself with the velvet weight of Gana's breasts and only partially succeeding. The slow liquid slide of Kain's cock inside him was far too demanding to be ignored, withdrawing slowly before surging inward once more, impaling him effortlessly.

Outlined like this, Raziel’s fine musculature formed a somewhat odd, sweep-winged, horned figure, a symbol that Kain nearly felt as if he should have recognized.... “Just... a little... more,” Kain breathed, the sight and sensation of Raziel’s little struggling movements so unbearably sweet. The cooled wax began to crack and flake away in places. Kain pinched the wick of the candle between his fingers, snuffing it out, and grasped Raziel’s hips instead. “Finished,” he purred in Raziel’s ear, “you may move.”

With a low, desperate cry, Raziel reared up, bucking into Kain, wings spreading outward reflexively. His cock ached, sensitized so that each shift and tiny thrust was a torment, and he still could not stop. Goaded by Kain's hands on his body, he snapped his hips forward, then back, caught between Gana's slick heat and Kain's unyielding cock, his face a mask of need.

Kain thrummed a low rumble of pleasure, of approval, of adoration, nipping at the nape of Raziel neck. Raziel’s rhythm was jerky, as desperate as Kain’s -- their every movement ground the join of Raziel’s wings against the hard plain of Kain’s belly, the wax scratching and rubbing between them.

Beneath, Gana cried out, twisting up against the hand that cupped her breast, the impalement that moved inside her. Her own taloned hands stroked down Raziel’s flanks, pet his face and shoulders with a light and trembling touch.

Kain had done his best to light a slow-burning flame in Raziel's flesh with his hot and cold caresses--now Raziel could do little but succumb to it. He thrust hard into Gana, feeling the brush of her feathers along his sides; then snapped his hips backwards with a whining growl, eyes glazed over, needing Kain to *move*, to go deep and hard and fast and bring them all to completion.

In response to that needy sound, Kain snarled, set his teeth into Raziel’s shoulder, clamping down hard. Twin trickles of purple-black blood traced down Raziel’s skin, dripping onto flesh as blue as the bowl of the sky. He set his claws into Raziel’s hips, and stilled his own for a brief moment -- and then drove in, ruthlessly taking, rocking, just trying to get a little deeper into that glorious tightness. With a low groan he retreated, only to plunge in anew, control finally fragmenting, splintering.

Being passive was not in Raziel's nature--and he met Kain's every thrust with a frantic intensity, grinding himself back into those merciless hands, trying to take that hard cock even deeper inside, feeling it rub hard against his inner walls, spreading them wide with every stroke. His wings were unfurled between them, outspread and shivering as Raziel arched into the bite at his neck, falling into a desperate frantic rhythm as Kain's thrusts pushed him forward, thrusting in turn into Gana's soft flesh, feeling her limbs wind around him, clinging.

Kain set the urgent, needy rhythm, and held it as long as he could. The membrane of Raziel’s wings was silken-soft, and the Ancient’s feathers were thick and giving and warm as he mounted both winged creatures. Glorious.

Kain could feel Gana clench down upon Raziel, could feel her quaking shudders transmitted through him, the way each entry was slick and tight. Kain shifted the angle of his hips a little, driving the head of his cock roughly against the sensitive little node of nerve endings inside Raziel, again and again. He disengaged his fangs, drawing a trembling breath. “Come for me, Raziel,” he breathed, and pumped in once more, harder, ruthless. And came, tremoring, roaring.

Kain's words were like the key in a final lock--Raziel convulsed, feeling Gana clench underneath him in the throes of her climax, and Kain simultaneously stiffen and spill his seed, filling him to the hilt. With a hoarse, ragged, cry, Raziel followed, dragged into a second orgasm as he twisted, his body clamping down, thrusting and bucking between the dual onslaught of sensations. His wings beat frantically at the air, half-pinned by Kain's body, as he shuddered and emptied himself into Gana's heat a second time.

Kain clawed at Raziel’s flanks, lapping spilled blood from his lips -- oh, divine, such pure and predatory bliss... he rode Raziel’s convulsions, wracked by his own.

Gana’s cry was sweet and soft, the plaintive sound of a young fledgling vampire, even as she bucked her hips up into Raziel’s impalement, her passage rippling in spasms. Finding the place Kain had bit, she suckled at Raziel’s already-healed skin, purring there, her thighs grasping him tightly.

Raziel's climax wrung every last bit of sensation and strength out of him, cascading sensation upon sensation until he could no longer tell whose hands were upon him, or where. Only the stamina of an elder vampire kept him from collapsing shamefully then and there as the rush of pleasure receded .... Instead he sank down on shaking limbs, unable to support himself any longer, utterly limp. Too far gone to even be concerned about his and Kain's combined weight upon Gana's softer flesh, he listened dazedly to the drumming of her heart, the panting gasps and soft rustle of feathers, feeling the darkness of Kain's power still behind him, around them both.

“Beautiful killer... ah, Raziel,” Kain breathed, just a ghost of a sigh, as he nuzzled against the back of Raziel’s neck, unable to summon any further movement.

It was several minutes before Gana, having lapped Raziel’s shoulder quite clean, meeped in protest. She was strong and fit and quite thoroughly dazed, but Kain was rather heavy. Kain nipped gently at the nape of Raziel’s neck, and slowly began to withdraw his soft cock, Raziel so tight around him even that motion was a torturous pleasure.

Raziel groaned low in his throat as Kain withdrew, feeling acutely the loss of that connection, even through his daze. He stirred sluggishly, trying to push himself upward--but he was still caught in between them, and his leaden limbs refused to obey. Nuzzling lazily into the warmth of Gana's velvety skin, he turned his head far enough to give Kain a sidelong glance. "It ... is a good thing I am already a vampire, Kain, or that game would surely have killed me." Though few men would object to dying in such a fashion ...

Kain purred a low laugh -- a rumble of utter satiation -- as he slowly lifted himself from Raziel’s body. His arms shook, and he managed to move only enough to collapse beside the pair of winged beings, laying half-upon a blanket of black feathers. “You were...” _glorious, sublime, transcendent_. Kain could not find the words. He settled for reaching under Raziel’s wing and brushing the palm of his hand over the joint, slowly peeling and wiping away the prickling bits of wax engrained there. Many were stuck to his stomach, as well.

Stretching a little under the ministrations, Raziel looked down at Gana's dazed face. "And you?" he said, switching to the human tongue. "Are you injured?" She did not seem to be, and the only blood Raziel could scent was from minor wounds, both hers and his own, and already healed. Still, fledglings could be surprisingly fragile--and the Ancients were still living creatures, with living frailties.

The sole response was a small growl as Raziel’s movement exposed a few more flecks of blood at his throat. Gana set to cleaning those off as well, with broad sweeps of her tongue. “Maitre,” she purred with devotion, against his skin. Her limbs tightened, the feathers -- rather the worse for wear -- of her unpinned wing sweeping across his back, trying to hold Raziel still for her predatory adulation.

Raziel gave a little rumbling croon, arching his neck under her ministrations. "I will take that ... as a 'no', then," he said lazily, recognizing well the signs of a satiated and overstimulated fledgling. He had not thought Gana was so young--but then, by comparison, perhaps all the Ancients were? It was an odd thought, to be sure.

It took a little time for Gana to completely calm, to relax under Raziel, for her eyes to close and her breathing slow. It was well indeed that neither of the truly undead vampires possessed a heartbeat nor smelled of fear, otherwise, in this state, she could have been goaded into assault quite easily. Later, she might truly feel the aches of well-abused muscles, or think back on the loss of control the Ancients so clearly prized with shock, but for now, she seemed like nothing so much as the angelic thing she’d once been, exhausted and debauched.

Kain watched quietly -- watched Raziel’s sated permissiveness, and the Ancient’s abandon. Kain might never need to rear a fledgling, and even if he did, it was unlikely the brutish Dumahim would behave at all like a young Ancient. But, just in case... he watched.

Drawing talons through those ebony feathers in a slow, idle caress, Raziel watched Gana sink into sleep with a satisfied air, feeling weariness hang heavily upon him as well. It had been over a tenday since he had allowed himself to sleep--the preparations for their journey, and the alien surroundings once they had arrived had not been conducive to it, regardless of the Ancients' welcome.

But now, with his flesh satiated, Kain close enough to touch, to guard .... sleep seemed to creep inexorably upon him, making every slow blink heavier, more difficult. Even as sleep settled over him, he turned more towards the younger vampire, watching Kain's face, wondering what thoughts lay behind it. An old, old instinct made him reach out, touch the thread of communication between them.

 _....Kain ..._ Just that, and nothing more--wanting to feel his sire's satisfaction. His eyes closed again, and Raziel relaxed into sleep.


End file.
